


Renounce That Ultimate Blue

by voleuse



Category: Witchblade (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-24
Updated: 2012-12-24
Packaged: 2017-11-22 05:08:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/606150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voleuse/pseuds/voleuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>This is the leave we never really take</em>.<br/>A day in the life of a reluctantly-supernatural detective and her ghost of a partner.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Renounce That Ultimate Blue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [IShouldBeWriting](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IShouldBeWriting/gifts).



> Set during the first season. Title and summary adapted from Adrienne Rich's _Stepping Backward_.

Sara woke, the dreams chasing her with clangs and char and flashes of crimson black. She took a deep breath before she dared open her eyes and, of course, Danny was hovering over her.

"Were you this creepy when you were alive, Danny?" she asked. 

"Yeah," he said. "You didn't notice because I was so cute."

"Dream on, Casper." She rolled onto her side, smiling. "And could you try looking more like a ghost sometime? I think it'd make me feel less crazy."

His gaze flickered to the bracelet, ever-pulsing around her wrist. "You're as crazy as they all were."

"Comforting, Danny." She closed her eyes. "Haunt me in the morning."

*

The precinct was surprisingly un-annoying that morning, and it took her a second to figure out why. "Hey," she said, spinning in her chair. "Where's Jake?"

Burgess didn't look up from his paperwork. "HR thing," he said. "All day."

"I'm heartbroken," Sara announced to the empty air. Danny stepped in front of her. "Of course."

"Not as much as McCartey," Burgess replied. "You should have seen his face." 

Danny smirked. 

The phone rang. Burgess cleared his throat. "I got the last one." 

Sara rolled her eyes as she answered. "Detective Pezzini."

"Unless you can't handle this on your own," Burgess said.

Sara flipped him off with her left hand, because she was busy taking notes.

*

The crime scene was cordoned off when Sara arrived, with two uniformed officers sternly blocking off photographers and an angry man holding a boa constrictor. Sara paused at the tape and raised her eyebrows. One of the officers, Rao, caught her look and walked over.

"Tell me the snake isn't our perp," Sara said.

"We'd have to figure out how to cuff it first," Rao replied, then shook her head. "The owner called it in--said 'Fero' went crazy and tried to attack the storefront."

"What, he was taking it for a walk?" Sara watched as the snake curled around the man's shoulders.

"Taking it to the vet," Rao said. "You want to talk to him now?"

"I want him to think about why people shouldn't walk around with snakes around over their necks." Sara eyed the photographers. "Ask him to make a statement down at the precinct."

Rao nodded. "Will do. And good luck with this one."

"What, the snake isn't the weirdest part?" 

"You'll see," Rao said, and with that, she turned back to the crowd.

Danny was leaning against the entrance to the store. The OPEN sign blinked through wrought iron bars, the light mottling red and blue across his face. "Watch the glass," he noted.

Sara's boots crunched against the shards littering the sidewalk. "Broken from the inside," she noted. 

"Better headline if the snake did it," Danny mused.

Sara sidled around him and stepped into the store. The bodega was brightly-lit, filled with shelves and crime scene unit personnel, taking evidence and photographs and fingerprints. The medical examiner, Jeffries, spotted Sara and waved her over to behind the register.

"Burglary gone wrong?" she guessed.

"I wish," he said. "But there's no gunshot wound, no stab wound, and no immediate or apparent cause of death. Aside from time."

The body was curled into the fetal position, shrouded in a heavy winter coat, and--Sara froze. "Is that a mummy?" 

"Weird, right?" observed Jeffries. "Uniforms talked to the owner of the bodega, and she said the coat looked like one her morning shift worker," he consulted his notes, "Valencia Jones, owns. But she did not look, and I quote, 'all weird and dehydrated' prior to this morning. She was twenty-three, according to their employment records."

Danny cleared his throat, and Sara looked over his shoulder, watched him drum his fingertips against the counter. He paused, and his thumb tapped four times next to a small statuette lying on its side. She tilted her head. "And what's that thing?"

Jeffries turned. "What thing?"

"The museum piece by the register." She pulled on gloves as she approached it. The piece looked wooden, traces of paint still embedded in the grain. "Looks like an alligator or something."

Jeffries looked up from the body. "That isn't something they sell in here?" He gestured towards the shelf of porcelain cats and fake metal elephants. 

Sara picked up the statuette and set it upright. The features were chiseled, but worn. "Nothing this classy." She spun it around, the base skritching against the countertop. "I think this is for real."

"That's outside my area," Jeffries said, crouching next to the body again. 

"You know a guy," Danny pointed out.

"I do," Sara muttered. She raised her head. "Can I get a photographer over here?"

*

Gabriel wasn't at his place, so she stuffed a couple of photos and a scribbled note into a manila envelope and taped it to his door.

"You were never good with the chain of evidence thing," Danny observed.

"Shut up," Sara said. She paused by her car. "So what, do you just disappear and reappear wherever I am?"

Danny stuck his hands in his pockets. 

"Don't tell me you've got some ghost confidentiality thing going on." Sara yanked her door open. 

She frowned. "Or you're haunting other people?"

He looked away. 

"Actually, don't tell me," she decided. "Want a ride?"

A car blared its horn as it passed her, and when she looked back, Danny was already in the passenger's seat.

"Damn it, Danny." She settled into the driver's seat and glared at him. 

"McCartey's aftershave must kill you in here," Danny said.

Sara snorted. "He's not so bad."

"Yeah." Danny watched her start the car, smiling. "I know."

*

Sara stopped by the medical examiner's office, but aside from Jeffries claiming this case would make for an awesome movie someday, there wasn't anything new.

Back at the precinct, Sara sorted through the notes on four witness interviews, snake handler included, statements from two family members and a boyfriend, and the annual financials for the bodega. "I could have lived without Jeffries's joke about trail mix," she said.

"Tell me about it," Danny replied.

Sara looked up. "Seriously?"

"What?" Burgess asked. 

Sara shot a warning glance at Danny before answering. "I caught a mummy and an angry boa constrictor, and all you've done today is paperwork."

Burgess laughed. "But who'll have the better story to tell?"

An officer signaled to Sara. "There's a museum curator here to see you."

"God," Sara responded. "Okay, be there in five."

Burgess's phone rang, and while he answered, she turned back to Danny. "I wish this was the weirdest day I've had all week."

"Tell me you don't love all of it," Danny said, grinning.

She tried to smile back, but she couldn't. "There are some things I'd change."

Danny's smile faded, but didn't disappear. "Me, too."

She picked up her notes, and the bracelet on her wrist thrummed. "Back to work, then." She looked ahead, and Danny was already there, waiting.


End file.
